Chasing Bludgers
by Honeydukes' Padfoot
Summary: Chasing after James Sirius Potter is like chasing bludgers; stupid, pointless and you know that it is going to come back to hit you in the face. And break your jaw. That sentence will get you through life unscathed. Oh, and I have always hated and always will hate planes. That might just help you too. Oh, and don't steal my diary. I'm done now, I swear.


I sat down in my seat and glared at the retreating back of a pampered socialite who I'd had the displeasure of being stuck behind in the queue to board. Yanking out my diary from my satchel I began to write.

_Row 37 Seat F – the window seat, thank Merlin. I hate planes._

The bitch had been flirting outrageously with an air hostess as the young woman checked her passport for her, blushing madly, whilst I waited impatiently behind them tapping my foot. It'd taken a full five minutes for the poor girl to return it to her with a smile and whisper goodness-knows-what into her ear before she let her pass. The hostess was still floundering when she asked for my papers; almost trying to rip my passport as she glanced at my ticket to check my photo. I grabbed both back, ripped off my part of the ticket and handed the woman the remaining scrap with a scathing "merci" and stomped off down the ailse.

_I hope they all burn in hell. The fieriest pits of hell. Let the devil and the rotting corpses poke them with sticks as they cry. Not that planes can cry. And maybe once I'm off the plane, safetly in England first or else I'd die too. And not the ones with any people on them, I'm not a horrible person, I promise; I'd never want anyone to die! Never mind... Planes can live._

I shuffled uncomfortably in my seat. Seats D and E were still empty next to me so I unbuckled my seatbelt and rested my legs across them with a sense of satisfaction. The intercom came on with a 'ping' and I automatically tuned it out.

_I wish Donald lived in Paris rather than in some crummy old house in the middle of nowhere so I could stay with Louis and Elsa at Beauxbatons. _

"Mesdames et Messieurs, c'est votre commandant de bord."

_I wish Dad hadn't moved to live with his cousins in Alicante so I could still have muggle friends like Sam._

"J'ai le regret de vous informer de ce vol sera retardé par encore cinq minutes que nous attendons pour nos passagers restants."

I groaned and whacked my head sideways on my chair. It wasn't as soft as I'd hoped.

_I wish that Rixon would sprint past all the barriers and fight all the officers and confund all the muggles just to get to me to tell me that he's always loved me and that he doesn't want me to leave and that I can live with him instead (even though he's actually in Italy at the moment but, hey, miracles happen. Take me, for example, I'm still alive though I'm the clumsiest human on earth. If that isn't a miracle then I don't know what is)._

"Nous nous excusons pour le retard et espérons que vous apprécierez votre vol. Merci."

_...Okay. So I'm well aware that that will never happen. But it doesn't mean that my heart isn't chirping away in my ear singing "Rixon! Rixon! Rixon!" _

I shut my diary with a sigh and leant my head back against the cool window. Outside the snow fluttered prettily and I wondered – not for the first time – why my goddamned parents couldn't have got along better. As an elder sister it made life hard always having to protect Robert, my little brother, who wasn't old enough to attend a magical school yet so didn't know what he was missing. Eventually all of the arguments that had escalated on a ridiculous scale and crescendoed to... Well. This mess I was currently in. And now, in the middle of my fourth year of Hogwarts, I was being shipped off to Merlin-knows-where in the rainy, miserable of tea and top hats. I squirmed slightly. I despise rain.

My eyelids gradually fell closed from the sheer boredom of waiting and I began to drift off when...

Some arsehole upturned an entire can of gunk over my head and I swore.

"EWWWW! C'est quoi ce merde?"

A boy who looked roughly my age was staring at me in horror whilst his – friend? Brother? - Behind him cried with silent laughter.

"Ohhh shit... My, erm, mal? Shit! Albus help me! What do I do?"

The English twat fumbled around to find some tissues from his bag and I cursed Merlin that I couldn't legally perform magic out of school.

"You- you complete prat! What is this shit? What have you DONE?!" I shrieked, swinging my legs back so I could sit up in my seat.

By now half the plane had turned to look at us in shock and I felt my face begin to warm up at the humilation. Did I mention that I hated planes?

"Oh thank Merr-goodness!" The guy muttered and sat down next to me with a huff. "You speak English."

I looked at him in shock; was he a complete imbecile?

"Bravo," I hissed, "And you obviously have all the intelligence of an ape considering you barely noticed that you spilt –" I sniffed my arms "- some kind of Coke all over me!"

He looked at me like I was completely mad and I rolled my eyes in frustration. This was going to be one hell of a plane journey. The seatbelt sign came on with another 'ping' and I jumped. The prat and his companion gave me odd looks before strapping themselves in. I grunted irritably and followed suit. The Coke dribbled down the back of my neck and I remembered that I was still covered in it. Reaching forwards I grabbed my satchel again and foraged for anything that could possibly clean this mess off of me.

"Here."

A hand waved around in front of my face, holding a packet of pocket tissues and I stared at it in silence for a second. My eyes slowly traced over the large hand which held them, up the tan muscular arm to the deep brown eyes staring back at me. The guy's eyebrows were raised as if to say 'are you seriously not going to take these?' So I did, quickly. And for once, I didn't blush.

"Thanks, I guess," I muttered as I pulled one out and started tidying myself up.

"I guess?" He replied incredulously, "That's it?"

I glanced at him with a frown. Did he expect more than that? He silently grabbed one and started patting at the seat around me.

"Well you were the ass that tipped whatever the hell this is on me in the first place so thanks for the tissues but no thank you for the – HEY, Mr! Hands off!"

His hand flew away from my arm and he raised both up in a mock surrender.

"Alright, alright! Mer-Gee, I was trying to help!"

I looked at him with a raised brow.

"First things first, Mr –"

"James."

"...Right, okay. Firstly, James, don't. Touch. Me."

He rolled his eyes as if I was being overdramatic and I ground my teeth. Some people obviously didn't understand personal space boundaries.

"Second, my name isn't 'Mehhhggie'. It's Annie." He smirked. I ignored it. "And lastly..."

A male hostess glared at me as he stalked down the ailse and I lowered my voice. Oops.

"Lastly..?" James encouraged.

"Lastly," I hissed, "I would prefer it if you leave me in peace for the rest of the flight."

He looked rather taken aback at that but gave a small nod and turned to the boy beside him. They began muttering to each other and I tuned it out as I finished cleaning myself up. Realising that my jumper had sheltered me from the worst of it I sat up straighter and began to yank it over my head, my tank top riding up around my stomach a bit. I ruffled my hair and shoved it beneath the seat in front of me. My satchel was fairly life-proof so being in such close contact with the sticky remains of my favourite green jumper hopefully wouldn't make any more mess.

I leant back in my seat again and shut my eyes. Ahhhh... If I could only get back to sleep again...

"I'm sorry about him."

My eyes flew open again.

"Seriously? What now – Oh!" I caught myself when I discovered that James had disappeared, leaving his friend the other side of him. "Sorry."

He smiled kindly at me and I tilted my head slightly to look at him. He had jet black hair and emerald green eyes which smiled out from a pale face. I frowned, he looked familiar.

"It's okay," he said with a shrug, "My brother tends to have that kind of effect on people."

I laughed.

"Wow, your brother? Huh, he's, erm... Something."

He looked at me pointedly and I grinned mischieviously.

"Yeah," he agreed, "He's normally pretty stupid. Though sometimes he'll really surprise you."

I looked at him in disbelief and he shrugged.

"I'm Al," he said with another elfin smile and I frowned again. He really did look familiar now I thought about it; maybe I'd met him before?

"How old are you two anyway?" I asked casually.

He blushed slightly.

"Well James was fifteen on New Years and I'm thirteen," he said with a shrug, "What about you?"

I smiled sweetly at him.

"Fourteen. So where do you guys go to school?"

He flinched slightly and scratched the back of his neck.

"Erm, you probably wouldn't know it. It's this private school in the middle of nowhere. Even I'm not sure where it is," he joked and I smiled. It sounded like the muggle version of Hogwarts.

"Sounds exactly like the kind of place I'm headed to," I replied and looked down at my shoes. For a moment I'd forgotten that was why I was on this flying contraption.

Out of the corner of my eye he glanced over at me sharply and cocked his head to look at me. I turned my gaze to his and was suddenly struck with how familiar he truly was. A sensation similar to a disillusionment charm slipped over me and I suddenly felt rather faint as my mind scanned back to my copy of The Daily Prophet that was cleverly disguised by a Vogue in my bag...

"What's your surname?" I blurted out before I could catch myself.

Al fidgeted again and he clicked his hands absentmindedly.

"Potter," he said simply and gave me an odd look, "Why? Do I know you or something?"

I stared at him in shock and could feel the blood draining from my face. Oh Merlin. I was sat next to the Potter boys. I was sitting next to the cousins of my best friend, Louis. Oh Merlin's balls. I was sitting next to James and Albus Potter and they were also on their way to Hogwarts. Oh Merlin's saggy grey pants. I had undoubtedly pissed one of them off, told the other one his brother was "something" and had made a fool of myself in front of both of them. Oh... Fuck.

"No," I replied faintly, "No. Not at all."

Albus looked at me quizzically just as James came back and the plane began to trundle over to the runway. He gave me a final glance before shrugging to himself and pulling out a book to read – Tolkein by the look of it. James plonked himself down heavily next to me and strapped himself in, his eyes twinkling. I looked away out the window quickly, so that he wouldn't get the wrong impression from all my staring.

I screamed internally. How could the son of such a great man be such an arsehole? How could his other son look so uncannily like him (something I noted that no picture had ever captured properly)? And how could I, of all people, have screwed up so royally so damn quickly?

Actually, I didn't need anyone to answer that last question. This really was just my luck.

I sighed overdramatically and heard one of them chuckle softly beneath their breath. My reflection was hardly inspiring; freckles, pale skin, eyes that were the weirdest hazel anyone had ever seen (to quote my own mother: "brown on the inside with forest green rings, positively terrifying" – though I hoped she was joking) and auburn hair that gained an orange sheen in harsher light. Currently my hair was tied up in a loose bun to hold back the frizz that had made my hair expand into a trianglular shape so vaguely resembled a halo. A peculiar flaming halo of frizz. Merlin was never kind to the likes of me. Although on the positive side, I had at least had the chance to put on some mascara so I didn't look all squinty. Ah well, I was probably destined to be the secretary to a secretary at the rate my grades were dropping so it wasn't like anyone would be haunting me for photos. Unlike the – admittedly – Adonis-like figures behind me.

I glanced at James over my shoulder in the window reflection. All the girls both older and younger than us swooned over photos of him, the son of celebrity and near-monarch Harry Potter. Their family could really never catch a break. Not that I followed it, I spent too much time with the choir and on the Quidditch pitch to bother, but Elsa had consistently updated me on every development.

He was very tall for fifteen (I averaged around six foot) although his facial features were fairly plain. His jawline was pretty squared out, I supposed, and was impressively stubbly. His chocolate eyes and hair were nothing special but he did have a sort of air of confidence that was... I refuse to say. Moving on.

Albus on the other hand was quite feminine; a few inches shorter, with large pouty lips and skinnier legs. His ears were very slightly pointed, which did warm my heart slightly at how adorable they were, and his smile was slightly wonky... But he was a lot calmer. More at peace.

The plane juddered and I noticed we were taking off. My stomach turned and I thanked my good sense that I hadn't eaten beforehand. I slid the blind shut and pushed my body back on the chair as if I could melt into it. My hands gripped the armrests so tightly my knuckles went white and my legs fidgeted.

"Mesdames et Messieurs, s'il vous plaît préparer pour le décollage."

A hand came down over mine and I almost jumped out of my seat in fright. James chuckled.

...So he had been laughing at me before... Arsehole.

"What?" I said. It was meant to have been sarcastic but instead it came out as a bit of a whimper.

"Need a hand to hold?" He whispered in my ear.

I looked at him like he'd suggested we jump out of the plane, parachuteless, from a thousand foot up in the air but then I saw the fear in his eyes and my brain... Obviously melted. Because I said "Huh?"

"Well," he began rationally, "It's obvious that neither of us like planes and this way you have an excuse to get revenge..."

And then the wheels lifted up off the earth. I didn't scream. I did shriek a little though. James' hand wormed it's way into mine and I felt annoyingly comforted so I began to dig my non-existant nails into his skin. I could feel him tense up before he started trying to crush my hand. I glared at the seat in front of me and squeezed back with all my might. At some point I began to lose feeling in my hand and started to panick. What if he didn't stop squeezing and my arm went numb?

'Ping!' The seatbelt sign faded to black. We both let go with a sigh of relief and glared at each other.

"Fuck, I said get revenge! Not 'break my hand', crazy lady," he muttered, "I use this hand for –"

"- I don't want to know what you use your hand for –"

"Throwing the quaffle! I was going to say throwing... The..."

He trailed off and coughed nervously. I stared at him in horror.

"I meant ball... Like, in basketrings. I'm on the school team. Best ball hooper... I was thinking of waffles," he finished lamely. Albus elbowed him pointedly.

I stared at him in shock for a few more seconds. A ball hooper? What the hell was he on about? Basketball? Or doughnuts? I looked around to make sure noone was listening in.

"You are so damn lucky I'm not a fucking muggle or you'd be very close to breaking the Statue of Secrecy," I whispered.

James stared at me. I stared back. Albus had frozen, a waterbottle half-way to his mouth, and was staring at me too. My eyes flickered between them both. They looked like statues.

"Merlin!" James said, letting out a long gust of air and hyperventilating slightly.

"So that's why you recognised our names," Albus said glumly.

I pursed my lips. Fabulous. They probably thought I was a stalker. Or worse, a reporter for The Prophet.

"Only because I'm friends with your cousin," I muttered irritably, "I promise not to freak out on you or anything."

That got their attention.

"Really?" James said enthusiastically, "Which one? Fred? Dom? Rose? Actually you and Rose probably wouldn't get along, she's too proper... Erm..."

Albus rolled his eyes and I huffed slightly. James seemed to have a natural knack for insulting people.

"Louis, actually," I said pointedly and he shut up.

There was a pause as this seemed to sink in for the two boys. They glanced at each other and bent their heads together to convene. I'm not quite sure why, but I smiled a little at the display of camraderie and relaxed a little. Maybe this journey wouldn't be so... I stopped that thought. I didn't want to jinx anything.

"So," James began, turning back to face me, "I hear you're coming to Hogwarts with us?"

I grinned. Of course Albus had worked that one out.

"It would seem so."

James and Albus shared a smirk.

"Twenty questions," Albus cried out and I scowled.

I opened my mouth to object but James beat me to it.

"Whereabouts do you come from?"

I grinned. This was going to be over quickly if they asked such open-ended questions.

"France."

Their faces fell. James cocked his head to one side and I noticed for the first time that the pair of them did look vaguely alike, though I couldn't quite pin my finger on what was so similar.

"Which town in France do you live in?" He asked.

I smirked again.

"I don't live there anymore." I replied noncommitally and the boys groaned.

I let them quickly whisper amongst themselves. I'm pretty sure one of them said the word 'divorce' and I squirmed. They popped their heads up again, grinning.

"Specifically in which town in which country does your dad live?" James said, smirking back at me.

I frowned. They were catching on quicker than the idiotic French boys in my year.

"Alicante, Spain."

"And specifically in which town in which country does your mum live?"

I winced. This would be difficult to explain.

"I'm not actually sure, the North of England."

They looked at me silently for a moment and I picked at the holes in my jeans.

"What is your full name as stated on your birth records?"

I looked at them gratefully. They'd skipped over the most painfully obvious question... Maybe James was okay after all.

"Anastasia Flynn," I smiled, "But I prefer Annie."

After that the questions came pretty quickly.

"Favourite colour?"

"Deep red or emerald green, I can never decide."

"Favourite word?"

"Glockenspiel."

"Interesting... Favourite film?"

"It's really old but... Anastasia. It's animated. Laugh and you die."

Cue an awkward pause.

"Okay... Favourite country?"

"That's easy. Ireland."

"Oh." James said, startled, "Why?"

"Where the hell do you think –?"

"Firewhiskey comes from, of course." He finished for me and I laughed.

Albus' eyes narrowed and he slowly leant back in his chair. He shut his eyes and became so still I couldn't work out if he was just dozing or if he was listening in to the conversation. James was watching me with an awestruck expression on his face.

"What?" I said nervously.

He looked at me for a moment longer and smiled.

"Nothing. Which house do you want to be in at Hogwarts?"

I frowned and considered it for a moment. I would never be a Ravenclaw; I wasn't nearly studious enough and had no real passion for well-rounded knowledge. I didn't particularly want to be a Hufflepuff, though Donald had been and he was nice enough. I really didn't like yellow. Was that petty? Anyway. I wasn't cunning enough to be a true Slytherin though I supposed I could be cold enough on occasion and my temper was pretty quick. And then there was Gryffindor. The house every nearly wizarding child wanted to be in so they could be like the famous Harry Potter.

"I don't know..." I shrugged. "I can't decide."

James looked at me almost disgustedly.

"How could you not know?"

"I just don't know!"

"But seriously! What about Gryffindor?"

I grinned to myself. The questions were flying by now.

"I don't want to look like another poser who gets put where they want so they can be like your father," I explained carefully.

He nodded.

"But if you got put there because it's where you're best suited?"

"Then of course I'd be a Gryffindor," I replied.

"What about Slytherin?" He asked warily. His eyes gave me a once over and he scratched the back of his neck.

I glanced over at him. His own gaze flickered to Albus and I suddenly recalled that Al was in Slytherin (no doubt something I'd picked up from one of Elsa's lectures).

"What about it specifically?"

"What do you think of Slytherins?"

"They're the perfect businessmen and, provided they're loyal to you and not the highest bidder, the perfect friend."

He seemed satisfied and shifted slightly.

"Would you like to be in Slytherin?"

"Sure. I'm not sure I'd be cunning enough to fit in all too well but I'd love the bedrooms. I've heard they're the most luxurious."

James' jaw dropped slightly but he recovered his composure and winked at me. I grimaced.

"You'd love the bedrooms, eh?" He said cheekily and I whacked his shoulder.

"I just remembered, you're kind of a prat," I muttered and shifted as far away from him as possible.

He pouted and I could have sworn Al laughed under his breath.

"Oh, really?"

"Yes. Really."

"Seriously?"

I smirked and punched the air triumphantly.

"Yes! And now I don't have to answer any more questions. Wake me up when the food cart comes around," I said, curling up in my seat and letting my eyes fall shut.

"There's a food cart...?" James whispered and I smiled.

By the time I slowly drifted off to sleep James had begun muttering under his breath; either to himself, to me or to Albus I had no clue. Why? I also had no clue. Perhaps it was boredom? But I did know that even though he may have been a bit of a prat, and even though Albus had laughed at my misfortune in the beginning... The Potter boys weren't that bad.


End file.
